Sometimes A Rainstorm Is Just A Rainstorm
by Soul Jelly
Summary: For one reason or another the others had to go home once in a while, and that just left Jeremie and Yumi. (Friendship fic, pure fluff)


Sometimes A Rainstorm is Just A Rainstorm  
by SoulJelly

_for kakunamatatq_

* * *

For one reason or another, the others had to go home once in a while, and that just left Jeremie and Yumi.

The autumn break felt long, the days mellow and slow. The ground was dry but the air felt thick with the promise of impending rain. Leaves the colour of rust tumbled in the air and stuck fast to Jeremie's window, where condensation already trickled lethargically down the glass.

He was tired of wandering Kadic's empty hallways, stretching his legs after long days of writing code. Occasionally he bumped into Sissi, who would look up from her texting to glare at him, then round a corner out of sight. Jim whistled distantly as he fixed and tinkered in the grounds. Brushing his fingers over dust-laden desks, Jeremie felt a bit like a ghost.

Meanwhile Yumi slept in late, practiced the calm movements of pencat silat on the grass outside her house and dozed with her face pressed to the open pages of books.

"Come over," she implored him. Her voice through his phone's speaker felt far away. Jeremie realised that he missed her. "If we're going to be alone, may as well do it together, right?"

And so he took the long way through the park that afternoon, around the manhole that led to the sewers and through the suburbs to the Ishiyamas' house. He had walked along this street with Aelita so many times and bristled to think of her now, in Rome with Odd, but pushed the thoughts away as quickly as they came.

He rung the bell and heard the sounds of thudding footsteps inside. A blurred silhouette appeared in the frosted glass and then Yumi was there, strangely smaller without her heavy, scuffed boots, bracing herself on the doorframe as she leaned out to greet him. She wore a navy blue jumper and patterned socks on her feet, and her hair was mussed with recent sleep.

"Hello stranger," she said with a grin. Jeremie chuckled as he slipped off his shoes in the hallway.

Her mother called a greeting from the kitchen, followed by a "No boys upstairs, dear!" just as Yumi's foot landed on the bottom step. She rolled her eyes. Jeremie shrugged, a gesture of _'Parents, what can you do?'_

They traipsed through to the sitting room, where Yumi's father was frowning over his laptop and Hiroki was pouring over an algebra textbook.

"Ah, hello - uh – Jeremie, was it?"

Takeo greeted him with a tight-lipped smile, a certain suspicion, the way he did with all of her male friends – like a boy couldn't possibly befriend a girl without some nefarious underlying purpose.

"Something wrong, Dad?" Yumi flopped onto the opposite sofa, patted the seat to indicate that Jeremie should sit next to her.

"I can't get this thing to work," he said, tapping the offending laptop for emphasis. "I swear it's getting slower by the day."

"Jeremie can fix it," said Yumi, glancing at the boy in question and hastily adding, "if you don't mind?"

He shrugged. "There's no malfunctioning computer in the world that's safe from me," and they both laughed at their shared joke.

Within half an hour, Jeremie had defragmented the hard drive, uninstalled a plethora of unnecessary software and backed up all of the Ishiyamas' important documents. Takeo stared at the boy jaw slack with disbelief.

Without missing a beat, Jeremie leaned turned to his right, swept his gaze over Hiroki's math problem, simply said "You forgot to carry the four," and returned to his place beside Yumi. Her eyes sparkled with undisguised amusement. (as she gave him a high five).

"That's amazing!" Yumi's father exclaimed. "Look how quickly this runs now."

Akiko appeared in the doorway and soon Jeremie was fielding detailed questions from both parents about his studies, which universities he was thinking of applying to ("Mother, he's _thirteen_!") and his extracurriculars. Akiko punctuated her conversation with approving nods and meaningful glances at Yumi over Jeremie's head. In return Yumi pulled faces, shook her head and gestured inarticulate frustration.

As they talked, the sky outside grew darker and now the clouds rolled in thick and fast. The heavens burst open at last, painting the world grey and flooding the streets with gushing rivers. The city, choked by the violent downpour, retreated into quiet defeat. Raindrops drummed feverishly upon the roof.

Takeo ran a hand through his hair and craned his neck skyward. "That doesn't look good at all. I don't think you should walk home through this."

Jeremie thought about his lack of coat, his thin canvas shoes and his precious laptop bag. He couldn't help but agree.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, dear?" Akiko asked.

Jeremie replied that yes, thank you, he would.

With a final, meaningful look, Mrs Ishiyama suggested her husband work in his private office while she finished cooking. Hiroki was already focused on a games console, barely looking up as he vanished to his room.

Yumi and Jeremie sat for a while and watched the rain. The yellow glow of the house's light left shadowy reflections of themselves on the windows, stretched and tired. The gutters already overflowed and branches thrashed violently as though desperate to escape their trees.

"XANA?" Yumi's lips were quiet around the word, eyes serious. Jeremie was already reaching for his laptop, flicking expertly between screens.

There was a long, tense moment while he studied the superscan.

"Looks like our good friend XANA is taking a nap right now." He closed the lid of his laptop with a gentle click, and neither missed the other's gentle exhale as the tension left them. Jeremie chuckled. "Sometimes a rainstorm is just a rainstorm, Yumi."

Yumi grinned and sank back amongst the cushions. "Well," she replied, stretching out, "thank goodness for that."

"Agreed."

"By the way, thanks for your help. My dad's been fretting about that computer for ages. He and my mother argue more when they're stressed out, so…"

"No problem. If only I could deal with XANA as easily as that, then we'd be set."

"Hey, let's not think about that for a while." Yumi leaned over and flicked on the television. "You catch the latest _Hospital of Horrors_?"

"Not a chance, I've been way too busy. I don't know why you guys like it so much, the puppets are kind of creepy if you ask me."

Yumi raised an eyebrow. "You're not _scared_ are you?"

"What? No! It's just a dumb TV show!"

It took Jeremie a moment to see the wicked glint in Yumi's eye and realise he was being teased. His response, in a fit of childishness, was to take the nearest scatter cushion and throw it at her. Yumi caught it deftly without missing a beat and tucked it behind her head. That was what happened, Jeremie supposed, when you challenged someone who threw deadly tessen fans on a regular basis.

"Better luck next time," she chided. "Come on, it's a musical episode. You'll finally be able to understand all of Odd's references."

The opening credits flashed onscreen. As promised, the tunes were suitably catchy and soon they were singing along, breathless with laughter. They only occasionally stole glances at Jeremie's laptop and their phones, waiting, just to see. Yumi made ridiculous imitations of the puppets, tweaking Jeremie's nose and stealing his glasses. He protested, but couldn't match her dexterity or strength and resorted to batting at her ineffectually with a fist.

It was the kind of banter that she managed so easily with certain boys – ones that weren't Ulrich, around who Yumi simmered with a strained, often awkward tension. Jeremie was reminded of her playfights with Odd in the school grounds, how they would screech with laughter as they jostled and tangled one another into headlocks, returning to class giddy and breathless, their clothes mussed.

At home, around friends, Yumi seemed softer around the edges somehow. She folded her arms less, joked more, melted into the comfort of her own space. The Ishiyamas' home was warm and inviting, and Jeremie felt himself relaxing too.

At dinner, they squeezed around the small, square table. It was a far cry from the high-ceiling echoes of the mess hall and Jeremie felt a pang of nostalgia for home, for a sense of normalcy he suddenly missed so much it made him ache. The family's conversations, snippets of English, French and Japanese weaved seamlessly into one another. Hiroki talked almost non-stop about video games, and Yumi and Akiko took turns piling extra rice onto Jeremie's plate when they thought he wasn't looking.

When the last plates had been emptied Takeo and Akiko retreated to the front room and, with a well-practised routine, Yumi and Hiroki began to wash up. Jeremie stood by the sink and passed along dishes to be cleaned – Hiroki scrubbed, Yumi dried and put them away.

"And that's why," Hiroki was saying, "You should check out _Super Warrior Crusade 4_. It's the best video game to come out this year. You'd love it."

"I'll try and find the time," Jeremie promised.

Hiroki took on a familiar teasing tone, and had never looked more like his sister's sibling in that moment. "You have the time _right now_. Your girlfriend is away for the holidays, and so is Yumi's boyfriend. Soooo-"

Yumi scowled, her head whipping around so fast her hair was a dark blur. "Hiroki! Shut up, you don't know what you're talking about!"

The blush spread quickly across her face. Jeremie, distracted from his own embarrassment, ducked as the older sibling lunged for the younger. Hiroki let out a shout of glee. Soon, they were flicking soapsuds at each other, darting and diving through the kitchen, occasionally glancing at the door to make sure they weren't overheard.

Yumi was a seasoned warrior and could have wrestled Hiroki to the ground in an instant. It was kindness and, Jeremie suspected, a secret love of this game, which meant she didn't.

"Don't think you're exempt from this, Einstein," came a suddenly quiet voice at his shoulder. Jeremie just had time to take in dark eyes and a sweep of silky black hair before a handful of suds was blown against his neck.

He didn't think about anything else.

Not the rainfall battering the walls of this warm and safe house, not the laptop in its case against the wall. Not Aelita, Odd and Ulrich with their families, far away.

Jeremie Belpois simply cupped water into his hands and gave chase.


End file.
